Eight

The first time I saw her, I wanted to throw up. Literally.

She had made me so ill for the better part of 6 months and up until she actually arrived that even the beautiful moment when the doctor put her in my arms, I looked at her, kissed her head and handed her over, saying, “I have to throw up.”

That was 8 years ago today. I still shake my head in disbelief that I’m a Mama and a Mama to an eight-year-old at that.

I know every parent says they are proud of their kid and I definitely am. I could not have asked for a smarter, funnier, sassier, more resilient, more beautiful little Kidlet.

Happy Birthday to the best eight-year-old EVER.

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